


let me be your motivation

by orphan_account



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Nikolaj is overwhelmed and loving it!, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:32:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21580651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Patrik’s arms are bursting out of the shirt; Nikolaj can see the seams straining. Patrik’s roaring lion isn’t just peeking out of the sleeve, his whole arm is just cut and muscled and big in the bulky way everyone is at the beginning of the season. Patrik’s contract may have taken longer than it should have to be worked out, but Patrik’s conditioning is right on schedule for the start of the season.It’s all totally and completely devastating any chill Nikolaj thought he had.
Relationships: Nikolaj Ehlers/Patrik Laine
Comments: 5
Kudos: 70





	let me be your motivation

**Author's Note:**

> this is a pretty thin plot just to get patrik being big and wearing nikolaj's clothes. ultimately any inspiration lies at the feet of the works by all writers for this pairing, notably [softeldritch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softeldritch/pseuds/softeldritch) and [symphony7inAmaj.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphony7inAmajor/pseuds/symphony7inAmajor)
> 
> this was not beta-read, and was been written mostly on my phone, so i apologize for any formatting/autocorrect errors, i tried to fix those but may have missed some before posting.

“This...is not going to fit, Fly.” Patrik holds up the shirt and winces. 

Nikolaj smirks. “Guess you should’ve won the bet then.” 

Patrik sighs and goes to the bathroom to change into Nikolaj’s clothes. 

“Hurry up!” Nikolaj shouts from the living room as he queues up chel. 

UNO games are serious; you don’t mess with the power of a Draw 4, but Patrik never learns. It was an easy bet and Patty took the bait. Now he had to wear Nikolaj’s clothes and deal with whatever settings Nikolaj gave him for chel. “Teach you some humility,” Nikolaj had crowed, delighted more that he would be able Patrik had smacked the bill of Nikolaj’s hat in retaliation and their teammates all laughed. 

Except now that Patrik is walking out of the bathroom in the loaner clothes, Nikolaj has the sinking realization he might not be in as complete control of the situation. 

Patrik is a large kid—man—and everyone likes to tease Nikolaj about his own height, or lack thereof. So, whatever. It made sense at the time of the bet to say that the loser had to wear the winner’s clothes, but jesus. Nikolaj can’t really say Patrik is wearing his clothes so much as bursting out of them. 

There’s a lot of skin. Skin that Nikolaj has seen before in the locker room but never like this. There’s his thighs that are just, thick and solid; the athletic shorts that are supposed to be loose and slinky are pulled so tight, Nikolaj idly wanders if they’ll rip when Patrik sits down. 

But when Nikolaj looks up higher on Patrik, the view isn’t any easier to swallow. The shirt is fitted, well, molded to Patrik’s body, but the fabric can only cover so much. The shorts hit low enough that Nikolaj can clearly see the boxers or briefs that Patrik is wearing, and the hem of the shirt doesn’t cover that far. There’s a solid 5 centimeters of Patrik’s torso that shouldn’t be enticing—Nikolaj briefly despairs—but because he’s slightly covered, maybe that’s what’s messing with Nikolaj? The tease? 

Except, truly, the biggest tease is higher up. Patrik’s arms are bursting out of the shirt; Nikolaj can see the seams straining. Patrik’s roaring lion isn’t just peeking out of the sleeve, his whole arm is just cut and muscled and big in the bulky way everyone is at the beginning of the season. Patrik’s contract may have taken longer than it should have to be worked out, but Patrik’s conditioning is right on schedule for the start of the season. 

It’s all totally and completely devastating any chill Nikolaj thought he had. Patrik’s body is on display in a way it never has been before, and in a way that Nikolaj has only thought about very late at night in the darkest corners of his mind where he thinks about what he wants so, so desperately. 

Patrik walks over to the couch and sits to the left of Nikolaj. The roaring lion is mocking Nikolaj, being so close and so tempting and Nikolaj can't touch. He looks quickly at Patrik's thighs and bites back a sound at the straining fabric and exposed muscle. 

Nikolaj realizes with a hot jolt that clearly Patrik must be wearing briefs because the shorts cut up so high and all Nikolaj can see are fair blonde hairs and summer tan lines. 

Patrik leans forward to get the second controller and Nikolaj holds his breath. The shirt strains and Nikolaj can hear the creaking of machine sewn seams, but it doesn’t rip away. Nikolaj honestly couldn’t say if he wants the shirt to stay on or rip away.

“Oh seriously? You know I hate this one,” Patrik grumbles. 

“Yeah, yeah, loser boy.”

At least the chatter is normal, and as the game starts up Nikolaj is able to focus more on playing chel and not actively drooling over his teammate and friend. 

Because, truly, Nikolaj admits, this bet has backfired spectacularly. Patrik walked out of the bathroom looking as confident and unbothered as he always does, and he’s still beaten Nikolaj at chel when Nikolaj had specifically sabotaged his team. 

Meanwhile, Nikolaj feels like his distraction must be obvious. He only hopes that Patrik doesn’t notice, and that when Patrik goes home for dinner—because Nikolaj will absolutely kick him out to preserve his sanity and go jack off immediately when the door closes—Nikolaj will be able to put this blip in his self control behind him. 

Patrik does not leave at dinnertime, because Nikolaj can’t actually find the nerve to kick him out. If given the option for time with Patrik or time without, Nikolaj will always choose time with Patrik. Congratulations, Nikolaj, you played yourself.

They order dinner, some steak and potatoes and hearty food that sounds good to them and won’t piss off their nutritionist. They pause their gaming—they’ve switched to FIFA where they're more evenly-matched—to eat, and Nikolaj settles into the couch cushions. He’s not looking at Patrik, hasn’t hardly all night, but it’s been...a pleasant evening, all things considered. Nikolaj has spent most of the time thinking about not thinking about Patrik. 

Patrik’s fork and knife clink against the plate as he puts them down on the coffee table. Nikolaj stares at the remnants of his mashed potatoes as his mind helpfully imagines Patrik’s arms straining the tshirt, threatening to rip—

“Are you mad at me?” Patrik asks and breaks Nikolaj’s reverie. 

Nikolaj whips his head up to look at Patrik. “What?” 

“Well, it feels like I did something wrong,” Patrik says. “You've been quiet, and uh, haven’t been looking at me?” 

“I’ve been looking at you,” Nikolaj says, weakly, even though he knows it’s a lie. Nikolaj has actively spent the entire evening trying not to look at Patrik, when now, still, always, Patrik is all he can see. 

Patrik laughs and for the first time it doesn’t sound...like Patrik. Confident. Self-assured. Instead he sounds nervous. He scratches his arm and Nikolaj can’t help but watch the motion of the tattoo and his fingers and think about scratching Patrik with his own—

“See, that! Where’s your head at, Fly?” 

Nikolaj swallows and scrapes his fork in the mashed potatoes. They’ve gone cold and they weren’t that great honestly, so they definitely don’t deserve his undivided attention, but if Nikolaj looks at Patrik right now, he’d just, he’d just babble about thighs and arms and muscle tone and strength and probably drool. 

“Do you not like what I’m wearing? Because you picked it,” Patrik says in the awkward pause Nikolaj left. 

No, jesus. Nikolaj clears his throat. “That’s not the problem.” 

“So why don’t you look at me and tell me what I did wrong? So I can apparently apologize?” 

Nikolaj looks up and nearly drops his plate with potato remnants on his lap because the look on Patrik’s face is jarring. Clearly his attempt to not blurt his undying desires has veered too close into the avoidance category, because Patrik looks distressed. “No, no, you don’t need to apologize,” Nikolaj hurriedly says. “You didn’t do anything. It’s just me in my head, don’t worry.” 

Patrik narrows his eyes, but seems to accept that answer and stays quiet. 

Nikolaj lets out the breath he was holding and then his eyes are caught on other movement as Patrik scratches at the collar of the tshirt. The fabric is stretched here, like everywhere, since Patrik has such a broad chest and his neck is thick and solid. Patrik’s hands are calloused like all hockey players, and Nikolaj wonders what the pads of his fingers feel like on the more sensitive skin—

“This is a pretty comfortable shirt, Niky,” Patrik says, softly. “Too tight, but really soft.”

Patrik has stopped scratching his neck, but he’s still touching, and tugging on the collar. “Yeah, I sleep in that shirt sometimes,” Nikolaj says, distracted. The collar might be stretched out now, too, so that when Nikolaj wears it again he'll always know Patrik had been there. 

“It’s a little short on me though, see?” Patrik drags his hand down from his neck and the stretched out collar, down the old Halifax logo pulled tight across his chest, and tugging out the hem, effectively flashing his abs for Nikolaj to just. See. And want. 

“Yeah,” Nikolaj agrees. What was the question again? 

“I think the shorts might be smaller than swim trunks I have,” Patrik says. His hands linger at the waist band of his briefs, then slide down until his hands are resting high up on his legs right at the edge of the short hem. Nikolaj is mesmerized. Patrik picks at the end of the shorts, clinging to his legs, and when he pulls the fabric away Nikolaj can see there are red lines and indents where the pressure dug into Patrik’s legs. 

Wait, was there a question? What did Patrik say? “Yeah, probably,” Nikolaj says, completely lost. Patrik’s hands are still moving, slightly, under the legs of the shorts. He's pushing the fabric up higher on his leg and truly, Nikolaj can't help the strangled sound that escapes. 

"I think I know what your problem is," Patrik says. Nikolaj wants to correct and say he doesn't have a problem, he has a god damn crisis, but then Patrik does the worst thing yet: he lifts his leg to prop it up higher on the couch cushion and lets his legs fall open. 

Well, as open as they can fall with how tight the fabric is. Nikolaj follows the motion and his throat is dry. Nikolaj licks his lips and recognizes in an out of body sort of way that his face must be flushed. Patrik is... big. All over. This isn't an exaggeration, he can see quite clearly through the slinky fabric, Patrik's dick is big. That's, a great crotch. A great dick. 

Nikolaj wants so badly to find a chirp and joke with Patrik about the hilarity of this situation and laugh, but also more than anything he wants to faceplant on Patrik's dick and--

Nikolaj frantically looks up at Patrik's face because he just spent however long staring at his teammate's dick and that's not a precipice you can just back track on. But Patrik's face isn't disgusted. He's not angry. He's not... getting up from the couch and calling his agent, or the newspapers, or--No. Patrik isn't angry. 

"I think you like me wearing your clothes, Niky," Patrik says. It's not a whisper, but it might as well be. The game has queued on the loading screen so long the machine has gone idle. There's no other sound in the room except for a wheezing breath that Nikolaj belatedly realizes must be coming from himself. 

Nikolaj stays completely still. Patrik doesn't sound like he's going to make fun of him, or end their friendship, or whatever, but still. 

Patrik shifts until he's completely facing Nikolaj. His right arm is draped on the back of the couch, and his legs are now both up, his feet almost resting in Nikolaj's lap. The motion has rucked up the shirt and the shorts until it looks like the shirt is a bonafide crop top; all of Patrik is on display and Nikolaj can't help frantically looking down and back to his face. "And you know what?" Patrik says, almost like a croon. "I think I like wearing your clothes, Niky." 

"Oh?" he squeaks. 

Patrik smirks. "Can I show you how much I like it?" Patrik brings his left hand up to his mouth and licks his palm. Then he sticks his hand down his shorts. 

Nikolaj's brain short circuits. Patrik is. Touching. Patrik is--Nikolaj shakes his head to clear his thoughts, but no, this is all overwhelming. 

"What--what are you doing?" Nikolaj asks, breathlessly. 

Patrik continues to move his hand underneath the fabric, gripping his cock inside his shorts. "I gotta tell you, I don't think I lost this bet," Patrik says.

The sound of Patrik's voice, soft and deep and so clearly aroused has Nikolaj overcome, but it does help clear his head a little. This is not how he thought the day was going to go, but this is too far to go for a joke, even for Patrik. 

"I think your shorts are gonna rip, Niky." Patrik is looking right at Nikolaj, his crooked smirk and bright vivid blue eyes piercing right through Nikolaj. “Should I take them off?” 

“Hnng,” Nikolaj says. 

Patrik quirks an eyebrow. “Yes?” 

Nikolaj feels like he’s on fire. It’s not like the shorts are hiding anything at the moment and it does seem increasingly more likely Patrik would be okay with being naked, but also—

The idea of Patrik ripping Nikolaj’s clothes just by existing all big and muscled and the fabric couldn’t contain itself over Patrik’s body is—

Nikolaj shakes his head. 

“No?” Patrik asks, softly. “Then what do you want, Nikolaj?” 

Nikolaj licks his lips, breathing shakily. Now or never, huh? “I want,” Nikolaj starts, “I want you—“ he moves his hand from Patrik’s thigh, trailing up the short, hot distance to where Patrik’s left forearm is just outside the waistband of his shorts and briefs, and tugs his hand away from his dick. Then Nikolaj pulls Patrik forward until he’s following back on top of Nikolaj, “—here. I want you here.” 

Nikolaj’s tug brought Patrik all the way forward, and Patrik had to slap his hands out on the couch arm rest, bracketing Nikolaj. There are clatters, and a concerning splat sound that Nikolaj errantly realizes is the controller hitting the plate of cold mashed potatoes as everything that isn’t Nikolaj or Patrik tumbled to the ground. 

Nikolaj can feel Patrik’s dick, hard and hot against his own, and he gasps out a whine as he’s overwhelmed with Patrik on him, Patrik in his clothes, Patrik. All Patrik. 

Patrik leans in close, their faces almost touching. “Yeah?” 

Nikolaj nods and feels one of Patrik’s hands tangle in his hair. “Please,” he whispers.

“Oh, Niky, I got you,” Patrik tightens his grip in Nikolaj’s hair, a comforting grounding, and then overwhelms Nikolaj with a searing, claiming, kiss. 

Patrik shifts and Nikolaj reaches for Patrik’s waist. Patrik grinds their cocks together and Nikolaj scratches at the bared skin underneath the rucked up stretched shirt. Nikolaj recognizes he’s not going to last long here, basically half chubbed and hard from the moment Patrik walked out looking like a god damn feast, but he’d like to last longer than a second of Patrik touching him. 

Patrik tugs Nikolaj’s head back, breaking the kiss and runs his mouth down Nikolaj’s neck in hot drags. “Come on, Niky,” he murmurs between licks and bites that soothe then heat Nikolaj hotter. 

“Patrik, please,” Nikolaj whines out. He’s writhing under Patrik as much as he can, but Patrik is bigger and has all the leverage. Which is why he pulled and forced Patrik on top of him, so he’s not complaining, he just wants. 

“Yeah baby, I got you.” Patrik bites Nikolaj’s ear and proceeds to take Nikolaj all the way apart. 

They don’t come at the same time, but Nikolaj doesn’t need a hand on him to get there, just Patrik. The best moment, though, might be just as he’s coming down, he looks up at Patrik hunched on and around him. 

Patrik’s left arm is at Nikolaj’s head, his hand tightly directing. The shorts are ripped and ruined, and his briefs are pulled down to free his dick. Patrik’s tattooed right arm, devastating to Nikolaj normally, but even more so as he’s swiping his hand across the head of his dick, wet and dark pink. They lock eyes as Nikolaj whines a high exhale, and Patrik comes. 

Patrik closes his eyes and breathes deep. He doesn’t move off of Nikolaj, but he does unwind his hand from Nikolaj’s hair. The game has been idle for so long, the machine has probably turned off, and there’s no other sound in the apartment. 

Nikolaj’s heartbeat is rushing in his ears; he wants to be brave. 

“You were right—I did like you, do like you, in my clothes.” 

Patrik looks at Nikolaj and smiles, but it isn’t crooked. 

“I also like you in your clothes,” Nikolaj trying confidence he doesn’t quite feel. “I uh, I like you without clothes on, too.” 

Patrik stares, unblinking, for long enough that Nikolaj is worried that orgasms aside, he has seriously misjudged this entire situation and may have to bury himself under the ocean. Finally, Patrik says, “Oh?” 

Nikolaj grabs one of Patrik’s hands between his own, and links their fingers together. He looks back up at Patrik and there it is, there’s that crooked smile. “I like you, Patty,” he says simply. 

Patrik huffs out a laugh before leaning forward to give Nikolaj an unhurried, lingering kiss. He pulls back to say, “Good. I like you, too, Niky.” 

There’s come cooling in Nikolaj’s shorts, and Patrik’s dick is still out, and it’s all very incongruous but everything is so sweet and his heart is so full. 

He shifts underneath Patrik, and Patrik tightens his legs around Nikolaj. Nikolaj whines before he can stop the sound and Patrik zeroes in like a big cat hunting prey. 

“Shut up,” Nikolaj says, embarrassed. 

Patrik just laughs one more time before levering himself off of Nikolaj. The motion is sort of hampered by the torn, but still trying-to-be-attaches shorts that are clinging and falling off Patrik. Nikolaj can see vivid red scratches he left running down Patrik’s sides, and there’s come on Patrik’s abs. 

“Come on, Fly, let’s go get clean,” Patrik says, offering a hand to Nikolaj. Patrik hauls him up and close to start a scorching hot, possessive kiss. Nikolaj is clinging, and lucky for the support to stand. Patrik has his dick out, shorts falling off, and come drying all over, but Nikolaj is still the one too overwhelmed to stand. Jesus. 

“I still think I won this bet,” Patrik smirks. 

Nikolaj tucks his head into Patrik’s chest and just smiles so big, his cheeks hurt.

**Author's Note:**

> this was a pretty thinly veiled conceit to get patrik wearing nikolaj’s clothes, because i imagined patrik in a crop top and spontaneously combusted. does the clothing size make sense? no, but just pretend these are some of nikolaj's oldest clothes, very soft, and a little small on him too, but comfy for sleeping. and then, you know, patrik big. 
> 
> the UNO reference was indeed for ["make my heart sparkle like champagne"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19390588) by softeldritch that i have reread probably 5+ times. any reference or homage to anything by symphony7inAmaj would be a happy accident but no surprise because i have truly melted into a puddle at everything they write. please go read anything by both of these authors, but i would strongly recommend you read everything they've written. ok, thanks!
> 
> so anyway! please let me know if there are major issues, tagging concerns, or any warnings that should be addressed. 
> 
> i can be found [here](https://wolfelina.tumblr.com/) | [here](https://foxingly.tumblr.com/)


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